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  • Done.

    So after a string of posts where I complained that I hadn’t got up and done something I finally managed to get up and do it yesterday. My first novel; Situation One, is now winging its way to the literary agency Darley Anderson for their perusal. I hope that they can spot something worthwhile in it, that someone there is on the same wavelength as me and that they can find it a market. It shouldn’t be hard, it’s the best book I’ve ever written.

    I don’t know where the push to actually send it off came from, I’ve been deliberating over minuscule changes to the dynamic of sentences for weeks now, and then worrying that my cover letter and synopsis didn’t come off right and in the end I just accepted that I’d written them, and there was a reason that I had written what I had and that was what should go off to the agents so that’s what has gone off. Once that envelope was sealed I was sure of what I was doing, I had the words ‘just do it already’ cycling round my head, those were my Grandma’s words of advice when months ago I griped to her that it was really hard work writing a book. I wish I could call her up and let her know that it’s done.

    The woman in the post office didn’t even congratulate me on my achievement, she just bunged a stamp on it and sent it off to the mystical world of the post office backroom where incredible things we could never even fathom occur. I asked for a proof of posting receipt just so she would know it was a big deal. Afterwards my girlfriend asked me how I felt.
    ‘I feel like it has taken a weight off, it’s out of my hands now’
    ‘That’s good’ she said, ‘are you crying?’
    Just for the record, I wasn’t crying. I had something in my eye, I think it was pride.

  • Further delays.

    Rather than getting everything wrapped up and sorted yesterday I decided to spend an awful lot of time working on my new music project. While this isn’t the worst use of my time, and it was on the agenda for this week sending off my novel was supposed to come first because the sooner it is off, the sooner I get published,write the screenplay, retain the merchandising rights, write the soundtrack, become a millionaire. See, I’m not as all over the place as I make it seem, there is a definite goal, good intentions.

     

    Today I am going shopping though. It’s payday, one of only twelve days a year when my account is in credit. Next week I’m off to Paris so I need to make sure I’ve got enough striped shirts and pencil thin moustaches to see me through. I’m kidding. Usually I’m one of those people who just gets by with what he’s got but holiday is something else. That’s a very British attitude isn’t it. People save all year for their holidays, and that is what this feels like, like I’ve earned it. So I’m going to get some Euros, and possibly some clothes and then take my beloved for lunch, because it’s payday, and I’m avoiding work.

  • Delays.

    I had every intention of sending my novel off yesterday, I just about managed to get the synopsis done before I drifted off into a world of other things to avoid it. That included recording about eight new songs (as basic guitar and vocal tracks) so I can build on them later. The reason I haven’t sent the novel off yet is that I just don’t think it’s ready. This may be my fear of failure kicking it or it may be genuine. My worry is that this is the only chance Situation One will get to be told, if it hits a brick wall I will write something else, I’ll roll out of it but my story gets dropped and that would piss me off.

    The amount of stuff that has gone on in my life while I was working on that book means that it is more than just a piece of writing to me now, although it descriptively covers a part of my own history the things I have gone through since, and as a result of it feel more important. For this not to be published would feel like not only was my University life being condemned (because that’s the period of my life the book is about) but everything I’ve done since, where it has got me, the friendships it has made, all come to nothing. I know that’s not the case but that’s the way it has built up in my head and it’s a very hard thing to shift. I don’t want this story to fail and I have to give it the best chance, I have to read through it again, and make sure it is the best telling it can be of what happened. I owe that to the friends who were there, whether they know about it or not, and I owe that to myself.

    So here goes, 174 pages of A4 to read, and a synopsis to review.
    Wish me luck.

  • Shame – an almost review.

    Last night I finally got to see Shame, the 2011 film directed by Steve McQueen starring Michael Fassbender as Brandon, an outwardly successful thirty something struggling with an addiction to sex.

    It’s an unusual topic for a film I suppose because it’s not something that people are wholly comfortable in accepting or discussing, it’s often seen as being an excuse to not commit to any one person or for acting like a complete bastard. The film leaves little to the imagination in terms of the physical act while simultaneously drawing little more out of the story than is necessary. The backstory of Brandon and his sister Sissy (portrayed brilliantly by Carey Mulligan) is never fully explored despite suggestions that it will be or possibly should be.

    The film is beautiful, using long wide shots which can’t fail to impress, the amount of action coming in and out of these scenes is worth taking account of, the city of New York is the perfect backdrop to show just how lonely one man can be despite his varied encounters and success professionally.

    If you aren’t opposed to strong use of the male genitalia as a story telling technique then it is definitely worth checking out.

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  • Dedicated Follower of Fiction.

    Today marks the start of my two weeks down time from office work. I have set it upon myself to continue to work, because I am still trying to be who I can be, the game is afoot as Shakespeare famously wrote. The reason being that I am finally happy with my novel, I have spent the last year writing it, crying over it, and fine tuning it and it’s ready for the off. I’ve also taken the time to research a number of literary agents and publishers and have shortlisted a few who should be receiving my manuscript within the next week. These are exciting times for me. It’s the culmination of a dream I’ve had since childhood, to be a published author but it’s only in the last two years that I’ve realised it’s what I want to do completely, and that little else satisfies me in the way that sitting on my own in the dark, hammering away at the illuminated keys does.

    Today I must write up the additional information that needs to go with the first three chapters for submission and then it should be all go on Monday. I can’t wait to hear back, even if it’s just a rejection, because that’s not what matters, it’s all a part of the progress and the process and I feel happy within and without. I am at peace.

  • Mancrush Friday – James Franco.

    Last week I mentioned how Jason Schwartzman had a similar appeal to me as that of James Franco so I thought it only fair he had his turn in the spotlight.

    I guess I first saw Franco as Harry Osborn in Spiderman but it was when somebody lent me a copy of the biopic about James Dean in which he stars as the lead that I first started to become interested in his abilities as an actor. Not to say Spiderman isn’t great, or that his performance wasn’t but its a hard thing to get anything serious from, and he was a bit mopey. I was going through a massive James Dean phase at the time and the fact there was somebody living who had played him took on a whole new meaning (like when I saw Toyah Wilcox as Peter Pan in panto).

    From then on I looked out for Franco and have thoroughly enjoyed his recent bout with Hollywood biggies like Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes and 127 Hours. You have to take it back to his appearance in Apatow’s cult TV series Freaks & Geeks to see where it all started though, and to see why his relationship with Rogen in Pineapple Express seems so spot on.

    Another thing about Franco is the strings to his bow, he’s not only an actor but also a writer (with one published collection of short stories Palo Alto to his name, a scholar, a dancer, a filmmaker… That’s something that inspires me a great deal, someone who could sit back and accept that he’s a big screen star but goes out for that challenge, continues with his education, keeps pushing his abilities and what his fortunate position has made him able to afford. What a guy!

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  • Housekeeping.

    I apologise in advance that this is going to be a boring blog post, I’m not even going to blast it over the usual mediums, I just need to process something and this is the first way I thought of doing it, I might as well have scrawled it on a bit of paper.

    I’ve been considering turning this into an actual website, rather than it just serving as a blog. The plan is to have one place, one website where I can share my blog, music, videos and stories with you, at the moment I don’t know what I’d call it because WooWooCoolBastards is a bit too heavy handed to serve as a title. I’d like to think that the comments I get directly through WordPress and on Twitter and Facebook would continue to grow, along with my views, which have risen with each passing month since I started the blog in February.

    I find it quite infuriating having to jump back and forth through different social networks trying to drum up interest and hope in time people will sign up to receive notification of any additional posts by email and then I’ll stop berating everyone all the time to pay me attention.

    Apologies again, I’ll be funny or something tomorrow.

  • Murder – a flash fiction piece.

    He only came to as a drop of blood slid off the lowest point of the knife and splashed on the linoleum. It had all been a beautiful dream to him and yet when he had kicked that state away he was still there, he was still in it. He didn’t know the body, but he had known the girl, the girl who had made him too angry, she had been warned against him enough times but she thought love conquered all.

    He wiped both sides of the now red knife on her skirt which clung unnaturally to the pale skin beneath it. For some reason he couldn’t stop himself from shaking so headed into the family room to pour himself a stiff drink from the decanter his in laws had bought him for Christmas.

  • Mr Nice.

    Last night I finished reading Mr Nice, for the second time. Like Charlie in Perks I will always try to read a book twice to make sure I get it all, to capture it better in my memory. The book got me thinking about marijuana and the way it is seen in the eyes of the law.

    Mr Nice is the story of Howard Marks, an Oxford graduate turned marijuana smuggler in the late 60s. It’s an incredible story encompassing a rock n roll lifestyle with daring and narrow escapes and eventually the long arm of the law. Throughout Marks maintains that he is just transporting beneficial herbs, and that what he is doing is nowhere near as deadly as the alcohol or cigarettes markets which are legal in Britain and throughout most of the world.

    I can’t help but side with him. While what he did was illegal the way he justifies it makes you realise just how ridiculous the law is in this field. I know plenty of people who have fallen foul of the law while in receivership of marijuana and like Marks their punishments didn’t really match the crime. Marks spent seven years in a US penitentiary with murderers and rapists, and to me that doesn’t make a lot of sense. I believe that the real reason for such stringent laws on marijuana smuggling is that the governments know they should be getting a fat chunk of that in tax. That if it were legalised it would limit the cost added to the seller as the means by which it would be obtained wouldn’t be illegal and dangerous and as such a tax could reasonably be placed on its sale. Then again maybe that’s just this whole hippie brain of mine, but it would certainly solve the recession.

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Paul Schiernecker

I'm Paul Schiernecker, who the hell are you?

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